The Mafia's Dove (Hyunjin centric)

Easel

(⚠Warning: Suicidal Ideation⚠)

Felix's brows were furrowed with concentration and anger as he stitched up the gash on my arm, his hands moving with practiced ease as he skillfully mended the torn flesh. My expression remained blank as I watched him from my perch on the bathroom counter, unbothered by the sight of the damaged skin being pierced and tugged at.

He had numbed the area despite my arguments that wasting anesthetic on a minor wound wasn't needed, so I felt no discomfort as he continued to work. However, I did find myself growing concerned as he continued to wear such a troubled expression.

"Felix?" The only response he offered was a slightly distracted hum of acknowledgement, his eyes never leaving my arm as he continued to thread the skin together. "Why do you seem so bothered?"

He was a doctor, so surely he was used to doing things like this. But the expression he wore was a dead giveaway that something was on his mind. He finally halted his movements as he looked up at me, his brows still furrowed as a hint of confusion was added into the mix of other emotions his expression conveyed.

"Why am I bothered?" He restated my question as if I would suddenly realize why it was a stupid thing to ask, but he apparently overestimated my intelligence, because I simply nodded. He let out a pained sigh as he once again began to stitch my wound, but he thankfully seemed willing to share as he made to speak. "You almost died, you know."

So he was bothered because I was put in danger? That was very sweet, but also rather pointless. "You realize I'm not bothered by the thought of death, right? You guys have given me a reason to live, but my desire to die is still very present. Honestly, if anything you've only made me feel conflicted about it. So you don't need to worry. If I ever do wind up dead, it's probably my own damn fault, anyway."

His expression twisted further as he sent me a heated glare. "You're an idiot."

"So I've been told, but would you mind explaining why?"

He huffed as he finished tying off the thread, and he set the needle and thread down onto the counter before boxing me in. His gaze was still rather heated as he looked me in the eye, but his expression also held a hint of pain. "Whether or not you're fine with dying doesn't mean any of the rest of us are fine with the thought of your demise. I don't want to lose you, but the fact you care so little about your life makes me constantly worry that I will. Do you know how terrified we were when we heard the gunshot? I thought you . . ." Once again he released a painful sigh, and I wrapped my arms around his neck before pulling him into a hug.

"I'm sorry, Lixie." I wanted to tell him that they were enough of a reason to keep on living regardless of what life will end up throwing at me, but I would be lying. I couldn't promise that I wouldn't end up letting myself die if the situation presented itself. I couldn't promise that I would fight desperately to live if I wound up in danger. Because at this point, I honestly didn't know what I would end up doing.

He was obviously troubled by the thought of my death, and while I wanted to keep him from ever having to experience loss, I couldn't promise him that I would be strong enough to keep on fighting. I had stopped looking for ways to die because leaving them behind would cause my death to be painful, regardless of the method. But I wasn't just suicidal because of the shit I've been through. I was suicidal because of the fear I constantly felt knowing that it might not be over.

My past had worn on me, and I knew I wasn't strong enough to fight if history decided to repeat itself. I couldn't go through that again, but I feared my actions earlier today might have ensured it.

My father was a fucking monster, but he at least didn't know I was still alive. But my brother? The only reason he hadn't gone after me yet was because doing so would tip off our dad. If he found out my brother was the reason I was still alive, he would be in deep shit. So really, my father's existence was the only thing prolonging my own. If we succeed in taking down my father but not my brother, then he'll finally be free to track me down again.